PS 

1039 

M23c 


ALLEN 


CHRISTMAS  ON  WHEELS 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


HRISTMAS 
ON  WHEELS 


By 

WILLIS  BOYD  ALLEN 


Boston 
MDCCCXCV 


CHRISTMAS  ON  WHEELS, 


1. 

RAILROAD  station  in 
a  large  city  is  hardly 
an  inviting  spot,  at  its 
best;  but  at  the  close 
of  a  cheerless,  blustering 
December  day,  when  biting  draughts 
of  wind  come  scurrying  in  at  every 
open  door,  filling  the  air  with  a  gray 
compound  of  dust  and  fine  snow; 
when  passengers  tramp  up  and  down 
the  long  platform,  waiting  impatiently 
for  their  trains ;  when  newsboys  wan 
der  about  with  disconsolate,  red  faces, 
hands  in  pockets  and  bundles  of  un 
sold  papers  under  their  ragged  and 
shivering  arms;  when,  in  general, 
human-kind  presents  itself  as  alto 
gether  a  frozen,  forlorn,  discouraged, 
and  hopeless  race,  condemned  to  be 
swept  about  on  the  nipping,  dusty 


207234 


wind,  like  Francesca  and  her  lover,  at 
the  rate  of  thirty  miles  an  hour — then 
the  station  becomes  positively  unen 
durable. 

So  thought  Bob  Estabrook  as  he 
paced  to  and  fro  in  the  Boston  &  Al 
bany  depot,  traveling-bag  in  hand,  on 
just  such  a  night  as  I  have  described. 
Beside  him,  locomotives  puffed  and 
plunged  and  backed  on  the  shining 
rails,  as  if  they,  too,  felt  compelled  to 
trot  up  and  down  to  keep  themselves 
warm,  and  in  even  tolerably  good 
humor. 

44  Just  my  luck  I "  growled  Bob  with 
a  misanthropic  glare  at  a  loud-voiced 
family  who  were  passing;  "Christmas 
coming,  two  jolly  Brighton  parties  and 
an  oratorio  thrown  up,  and  here  am  I, 
fired  off  to  San  Francisco.  So  much 
for  being  junior  member  of  a  law  firm. 
Wonder  what "  — 

Here  the  ruffled  current  of  his  medi 
tations  ran  plump  against  a  rock,  and 
as  suddenly  diverged  from  its  former 


course.  The  rock  was  no  less  than 
a  young  person  who  at  that  moment 
approached  with  a  gray-haired  man 
and  inquired  the  way  to  the  ticket 
office. 

"Just  beyond  the  waiting-room,  on 
the  right,"  replied  Bob,  pointing  to 
the  office  and  lifting  his  hat  court 
eously,  in  response  to  the  lady's 
question. 

He  watched  them  with  growing 
interest  as  they  followed  his  directions 
and  stood  before  the  lighted  window. 
The  two  silhouettes  were  decidedly 
out  of  the  common.  The  voice, 
whose  delicate  tones  still  lingered 
pleasantly  about  Mr.  Robert  Esta- 
brook's  fastidious  ears,  was  an  indi 
vidual  voice,  as  distinguishable  from 
any  other  he  remembered  as  was  the 
owner's  bright  face,  the  little  fur  collar 
beneath  it,  the  daintily-gloved  hands, 
and  the  pretty  brown  traveling  suit. 

"  Dignified  old  fellow ! "  mused  Bob, 
irrelevantly,  as  the  couple  moved  to- 


ward  the  train  gates*  "  Probably  her 
father.  Perhaps  —  hallo  I  by  George, 
they  're  going  on  my  car ! " 

With  which  breath  of  summer  in 
his  winter  of  discontent  the  young 
man  proceeded  to  finish  his  cigar,  con 
sult  his  watch,  and,  as  the  last  warn 
ing  bell  rang,  step  upon  the  platform 
of  the  already  moving  Pullman, 

It  must  be  admitted  that  as  he 
entered  he  gave  an  expectant  glance 
down  the  aisle  of  the  car;  but  the 
sombre  curtains  hanging  from  ceiling 
to  floor  told  no  tales.  Too  sleepy  to 
speculate  and  too  learned  in  the 
marvelous  acoustic  properties  of  a 
sleeping-car  to  engage  the  porter  in 
conversation  on  the  subject,  he  found 
his  berth,  arranged  himself  for  the 
night  with  the  nonchalance  of  an  old 
traveler,  and,  laying  his  head  upon  his 
vibrating  atom  of  a  pillow,  was  soon 
plunged  into  a  dream  at  least  fifty 
miles  long* 


IL 

It  was  snowing,  and  snowing  hard. 
Moreover,  it  had  been  snowing  all 
night,  and  all  the  afternoon  before. 
The  wind  rioted  furiously  over  the 
broad  Missouri  plains,  alternately 
building  up  huge  castles  of  snow  and 
throwing  them  down  again  like  a  fret 
ful  child ;  overtaking  the  belated  team 
ster  on  his  homeward  journey,  clutch 
ing  him  with  its  icy  hand,  and  leaving 
him  buried  in  a  tomb  spotless  as 
the  fairest  marble ;  howling,  shrieking, 
racing  madly  to  and  fro,  never  out  of 
breath,  always  the  same  tireless,  piti 
less,  awful  power.  Rocks,  fields, 
sometimes  even  forests  were  blotted 
out  of  the  landscape. 

A  mere  hyphen  upon  the  broad 
white  page  lay  the  Western-bound 
train,  held  fast  by  the  soft  but  firm 
hand.  The  fires  in  the  locomotives — 

5 


there  were  two  of  them  —  had  been 
suffered  to  go  out,  the  fuel  in  the 
tenders  was  exhausted,  and  the  great 
creatures  waited  silently  together,  left 
alone  in  the  storm,  while  the  snow 
drifted  higher  and  higher  upon  their 
patient  backs* 

When  Bob  had  waked  that  morn 
ing,  to  find  the  tempest  more  furious 
than  ever,  and  the  train  stuck  fast  in 
a  huge  snowbank,  his  first  thought 
was  of  dismay  at  the  possible  deten 
tion  in  the  narrow  limits  of  the  Pull 
man,  which  seemed  much  colder  than 
it  had  before ;  his  next  was  to  wonder 
how  the  change  of  fortune  would  affect 
Gertrude  Raymond.  Of  course  he 
had  long  ago  become  acquainted  with 
the  brown  traveling  suit  and  fur  collar. 
Of  course  there  had  been  numberless 
little  services  for  him  to  perform  for 
her  and  the  old  gentleman,  who  had 
indeed  proved  to  be  her  father.  Bob 
had  already  begun  to  dread  the  end  of 
the  journey.  He  had  gone  to  his  berth 


the  night  before  wishing  that  San 
Francisco  were  ten  days  from  Boston 
instead  of  six.  Providence  having 
taken  him  at  his  word  and  indicated 
that  the  journey  would  be  of  at  least 
that  duration,  if  not  more,  he  was 
disposed,  like  no  few  of  his  fellow- 
mortals,  to  grumble. 

Once  more  he  became  misanthropic. 
44  There 's  Miss  Raymond,  now/*  he 
growled  to  himself,  knocking  his  head 
savagely  against  the  upper  berth  in  his 
attempt  to  look  out  through  the  frosty 
pane,  "  sitting  over  across  the  aisle  day 
after  day  with  her  kid  gloves  and  all 
that.  Nice  enough,  of  course,"  recall 
ing  one  or  two  spirited  conversations 
where  hours  had  slipped  by  like  minutes, 
"  but  confoundedly  useless  like  the  rest 
of  'em.  If  she  were  like  mother,  now, 
there 'd  be  no  trouble.  She'd  take 
care  of  herself.  But  as  it  is,  the  whole 
car  will  be  turned  upside  down  for  her 
to-day,  for  fear  she  '11  freeze  or  starve 
or  spoil  her  complexion,  or  something." 


8 


Here  Bob  turned  an  extremely  cold 
shoulder  on  the  window,  and  having 
performed  a  sort  of  horizontal  toilet, 
emerged  from  his  berth,  his  hair  on 
end,  and  his  face  expressive  of  utter 
defiance  to  the  world  in  general  and 
contempt  of  fashionable  young  ladies 
in  particular. 

At  that  moment  Miss  Raymond 
appeared  in  the  aisle,  sweet  and  rosy 
as  a  June  morning,  her  cheeks  glow 
ing  and  her  eyes  sparkling  with  fun. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Estabrook," 
she  said  demurely,  settling  the  fur  col 
lar  about  her  neck. 

Bob  endeavored  to  look  dignified 
and  was  conscious  of  failure. 

"Good  mo-morning/'  he  replied 
with  some  stiffness,  and  a  shiver 
which  took  him  by  surprise.  It  was 
cold,  jumping  out  of  that  warm 
berth. 

44 1  understand  we  must  stay  —  but 
don't  let  me  detain  you/'  she  added 
with  a  sly  glance  at  his  hair. 


Bob  turned  and  marched  off  sol 
emnly  to  the  masculine  end  of  the 
car,  washed  in  ice-water,  completed 
his  toilet,  and  came  back  refreshed. 
Breakfast  was  formally  served  as 
usual,  and  then  a  council  of  war 
was  held.  Conductor,  engineers,  and 
brakemen  being  consulted,  and  in 
ventories  taken,  it  was  found  that 
while  food  was  abundant,  the  stock 
of  wood  in  the  bins  would  not  last 
till  noon.  There  were  twelve  railroad 
men  and  thirty-five  passengers  on 
board,  some  twenty  of  the  latter 
being  emigrants  in  a  second-class 
behind  the  two  Pullmans. 

The  little  company  gathered  in 
the  snow-bound  car  looked  blankly 
at  each  other,  some  of  them  instinc 
tively  drawing  their  wraps  more 
tightly  about  their  shoulders,  as  if 
they  already  felt  the  approaching 
chill. 

It  was  miles  to  the  nearest  station 
in  either  direction.  Above,  below,  on 


10 


all  sides,  was  the  white  blur  of  tumul 
tuous,  wind-lashed  snow. 

The  silence  was  broken  pleasantly* 
Once  more  Bob  felt  the  power  of  those 
clear,  sweet  tones* 

44  The  men  must  make  up  a  party 
to  hunt  for  wood/*  she  said.  4t  While 
you  're  gone  we  women  will  do  what 
we  can  for  those  who  are  left." 

The  necessity  for  immediate  action 
was  evident,  and  without  further  words 
the  council  broke  up,  to  obey  her  sug 
gestion. 

A  dozen  men,  looking  like  amateur 
Esquimaux,  and  floundering  up  to 
their  armpits  at  the  first  step,  started 
off  through  the  drifts.  One  of  the 
train-men  who  knew  the  line  of  the 
road  thoroughly,  was  sure  they  must 
be  near  a  certain  dump  of  trees  where 
plenty  of  wood  could  be  obtained. 
Taking  the  precaution  to  move  in 
single  line,  one  of  the  engineers,  a 
broad-shouldered  six-footer,  leading  the 
way,  and  steering  by  compass,  they 


were  soon  out  of  sight.  As  they 
struck  off  at  right  angles  to  the  track, 
Bob  thought  he  recognized  a  face 
pressed  close  to  the  pane  and  watch 
ing  them  anxiously ;  but  he  could  not 
be  sure. 

Two  hours  later  the  men  appeared 
once  more,  some  staggering  under 
huge  logs,  some  with  axes,  some  with 
bundles  of  lighter  boughs  for  kindling. 
In  another  five  minutes  smoke  was 
going  up  cheerily  from  the  whole  line 
of  cars,  for  the  trees  had  proved  to  be 
less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant 
and  the  supply  would  be  plentiful  before 
night. 

When  Bob  Estabrook  stamped  into 
his  own  car,  hugging  up  a  big  armful 
of  wood,  he  was  a  different  looking 
fellow  from  the  trim  young  lawyer 
who  was  wont  to  stand  before  the 
jury  seats  in  the  Boston  Court  House. 
He  had  on  a  pair  of  immense  blue 
yarn  mittens  loaned  by  a  kindly  brake- 
man,  his  face  was  scratched  with 


refractory  twigs,  his  eyebrows  were 
frosted,  his  moustache  an  icy  caret. 

The  average  tramp  might  well 
have  hesitated  before  acknowledging 
kinship  with  him. 

His  eye  roved  through  the  length 
of  the  car  as  it  had  that  first  night  in 
the  depot.  She  was  not  there.  He 
was  as  anxious  as  a  boy  for  her  praise. 

"Guess  I'll  take  it  into  the  next 
car,"  he  said  apologetically  to  the 
nearest  passenger;  "there's  more 
coming  just  behind." 

She  was  not  in  the  second  Pullman. 
Of  course  she  was  n't  in  the  baggage 
car.  Was  it  possible — ?  He  entered 
the  third  and  last  car,  recoiling  just  a 
bit  at  the  odor  of  crowded  and  unclean 
poverty  which  met  him  at  the  door* 

Sure  enough,  there  she  sat  —  his 
idle,  fashionable  type  of  inutility — 
with  one  frowzy  child  upon  the  seat 
beside  her,  two  very  rumpled-looking 
boys  in  front,  and  a  baby  with  terra 
cotta  hair  in  her  arms.  Somehow,  the 


baby's  hair  against  the  fur  collar  did 
n't  look  so  badly  as  you  would  expect, 
either*  She  seemed  to  be  singing  it  to 
sleep,  and  kept  on  with  her  soft  croon 
ing  as  she  glanced  up  over  the  tangled 
red  locks  at  snowy  Bob  and  his  arm 
ful  of  wood,  with  a  look  in  her  eyes 
that  would  have  sent  him  cheerfully 
to  Alaska  for  more,  had  there  been 
need.  A  few  seats  off,  I  ought  to  say, 
her  father  was  talking  kindly  and  ear 
nestly  to  a  rough-looking  man  and  his 
wife,  the  latter  of  whom  wore  the  dear 
old  gentleman's  cloak.  Fathers  and 
daughters  are  apt  to  be  pretty  much 
alike  in  these  things,  you  see. 


IIL 

With  the  cheerful  heat  of  the  fires, 
the  kind  offices  of  nearly  all  the  well- 
dressed  people  to  the  poorer  ones, — for 
they  were  not  slow,  these  kid-gloved 
Pullman  passengers,  to  follow  Miss 
Raymond's  example, — the  day  wore 
on  quietly  and  not  unpleasantly  toward 
its  close.  Then  some  one  suddenly 
remembered  that  it  was  Christmas 
Eve. 

"Dear  me!"  cried  Miss  Raymond 
delightedly,  reaching  round  the  baby 
to  clap  her  hands;  "let's  have  a 
Christmas  party  I " 

A  few  sighed  and  shook  their  heads 
as  they  thought  of  their  own  home 
firesides;  one  or  two  smiled  indul 
gently  on  the  small  enthusiast ;  several 
chimed  in  at  once.  Conductor  and 
baggage-master  were  consulted,  and 

the  spacious  baggage  car  "specially 
14 


engaged  for  the  occasion/'  the  origi 
nator  of  the  scheme  triumphantly  an 
nounced.  Preparations  commenced 
without  delay.  All  the  young  people 
put  their  heads  together  in  one  corner, 
and  many  were  the  explosions  of 
laughter  as  the  programme  grew. 
Trunks  were  visited  by  their  owners 
and  small  articles  abstracted  therefrom 
to  serve  as  gifts  for  the  emigrants  and 
train-men,  to  whose  particular  enter 
tainment  the  evening  was  by  common 
consent  to  be  devoted. 

Just  as  the  lamps  were  lighted  in 
the  train,  our  hero,  who  had  disap 
peared  early  in  the  afternoon,  returned, 
dragging  after  him  a  small  stunted  pine 
tree,  which  seemed  to  have  strayed 
away  from  its  native  forests  on  pur 
pose  for  the  celebration.  On  being 
admitted  to  the  grand  hall,  Bob  further 
added  to  the  decorations  a  few  strings 
of  a  queer,  mossy  sort  of  evergreen. 
Hereupon  a  very  young  man  with 
light  eyebrows,  who  had  hitherto  been 


inconspicuous,  suddenly  appeared  from 
the  depths  of  a  battered  trunk,  over 
the  edge  of  which  he  had  for  some 
time  been  bent  like  a  siphon,  and  with 
a  beaming  face  produced  a  box  of  veri 
table  tiny  wax  candles !  He  was  "  on 
the  road,"  he  explained,  for  a  large 
wholesale  toyshop,  and  these  were 
samples*  He  guessed  he  could  make 
it  all  right  with  the  firm. 

Of  course  the  affair  was  a  great 
success,  I  have  no  space  to  tell  of  the 
sheltered  walk  that  Bob  constructed  of 
rugs  from  car  to  car ;  of  the  beautified 
interior  of  the  old  baggage  car,  draped 
with  shawls  and  brightened  with  bits 
of  ribbon;  of  the  mute  wonder  of  the 
poor  emigrants,  a  number  of  whom 
had  but  just  arrived  from  Germany, 
and  could  not  speak  a  word  of  Eng 
lish  ;  of  their  unbounded  delight  when 
the  glistening  tree  was  disclosed,  and 
the  cries  of  "  Weihnachtsbaum  I 
Weihnachtsbaum ! "  from  their  rum 
pled  children,  whose  faces  waked  into 


J7 


a  glow  of  blissful  recollection  at  the 
sight.  Ah!  if  you  could  have  seen 
the  pretty  gifts,  the  brave  little  pine 
(which  all  the  managers  agreed  could 
n't  possibly  have  been  used  had  it  been 
an  inch  taller);  the  improvised  tab 
leaux,  wherein  Bob  successively  per 
sonated  an  organ-grinder,  a  pug  dog, 
and  Hamlet,  amid  thunders  of  applause 
from  the  brakemen  and  engineers  I 
Then  the  passengers  sang  a  simple 
Christmas  carol,  Miss  Raymond  lead 
ing  with  her  pure  soprano,  and  Bob 
chiming  in  like  the  diapason  of  an  organ. 
Just  as  the  last  words  died  away  a 
sudden  hush  came  over  the  audience. 
Could  it  be  an  illusion,  or  did  they 
hear  the  muffled  but  sweet  notes  of  a 
church  bell  faintly  sounding  without  ? 
Tears  came  into  the  eyes  of  some  of 
the  roughest  of  the  emigrants  as  they 
listened,  and  thought  of  a  wee  belfry 
somewhere  in  the  Fatherland,  where 
the  Christmas  bells  were  calling  to 
prayers  that  night.  The  sound  of  the 


bells  ceased,  and  the  merriment  went 
on,  while  the  young  man,  with  eye 
brows  lighter  than  ever,  but  with  radi 
ant  face,  let  himself  quietly  into  the 
car  unnoticed  It  had  been  his  own 
thought  to  creep  out  into  the  storm, 
clear  away  the  snow  from  the  nearest 
locomotive  bell,  and  ring  it  while  the 
gayety  was  at  its  height. 

All  this  indeed  there  was,  and  more; 
but  to  Bob  the  joy  and  sweetness  of 
the  evening  centred  in  one  bright  face. 
What  mattered  it  if  the  wind  roared 
and  moaned  about  the  lonely  snow- 
drifted  train,  while  he  could  look  into 
those  brown  eyes  and  listen  to  that 
voice  for  whose  every  tone  he  was 
fast  learning  to  watch  ? 

Well,  the  blockade  was  raised,  and 
the  long  railroad  trip  finished  at  last. 
But  two  of  its  passengers,  at  least, 
have  agreed  to  enter  upon  a  still  longer 
journey. 


She  says  it  all  began  when  he  came 
staggering  in  with  his  armful  of  wood 
and  his  blue  mittens;  and  he?  he 
doesn't  care  at  all  when  it  began.  He 
only  realizes  the  joy  that  has  come  to 
him,  and  believes  that  after  a  certain 
day  next  May  it  will  be  Christmas  for 
him  all  the  year  round. 


J9 


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